thanks Jen for sharing your work and that of m. caimbeul who i had never heard of before until now super cool stuff check it out 🙂
Author: mbrazfieldm
paging Dr. Burroughs, Dr. Burroughs please…
WS i don’t feel that well tonight
the stars are covered in dust and grime
and the corner store doesn’t have the Windex i like
i’ve listen to Thelonius on Bluetooth
and Ravel’s Bolero till the landlady came
to shut me up it wasn’t even that loud
i struggle Billy Bull Baby i see you
in dreams of course with your suits and balding
beautiful head but your brain really turned me on
i’ve been going back and forth for three days whether i should
go to Daikokuya’s for a ramen bowl but i just don’t have the gumption
i think i’m depressed again the tears run like Jesse Owens and i have no interest in making
them stop
W im in head first in the Interzone of my own doing
for hours i sit on the kitchen counter
looking out for the little brown birds who eat the last
pomegranates of the winter and wonder where the
first half part of my life went but i worry more
that i have no specific certainty where my last half is
going
can you read me a bed time story my favorite is “Green Eggs
and Ham”
work by mbrazfield 2001
7th eden
opening my eyes for the first time
the old 3rd street bridge is unrecognizable
it’s been a long 300 years since
i walked through here in my youth
when we had reached the peak of
refining weapons of mass destruction mostly us
my blue spirit spans from one end
to the other end of the tunnel
i appreciate nature’s knitted emerald life blanket
layered over you so tenderly melodious brook
the perfect Elysium reward for those soldiers
who laid down their generation defending you
sooty vestiges of city hall no longer
haunt the fledgling Eden i rejoice inside
as the trees speak a new creation
stones banks and plants sit in convocation
while they wait for the new children
the meaning of us
slow frail time nears us
old i as you are parting
new i takes over
peregrine
desert you look very pretty in your tender green veil
it’s been a while since i was here visiting you
inner struggle and rebirth brought me to your boulder bosom
i see my brothers the Joshua Trees have gotten taller
therefore waving more lost children toward your safety dear friend
oh and the hares and wood peckers they still look
me over with caution and pity they sense my spirit
is still shackled in some ways but they are right
i’m just a human mother Joshua but how are you
i’ve brought you great news there will be rain later
this evening that rock you say yes that will be
good shelter the tiny lizard queen is a great hostess
the breath of your slate tinged skies is beginning to
smell like wet earth just like my grandmother’s hair when
as a babe i’d grab fistfuls and put it in
my mouth yet i don’t know how i can remember
her we were both too young when she had to
go up to the silver stars above my head oh
mother Joshua did you tell Oma to come and visit
there you see she’s the one next to Venus smiling
at me hey little ants get off my cake here
i’ll place it by your hill take it to your
queen my regards to her and now my eyes focus
to see the splendor of the ocotillo fire red blossoms
held up to the peacock sky and i breathe deeply
Pay it Forward Thursday – July 4, 2019
terminal lucidity
she lays down often
now that summer is hotter
her dewy jade eyes
are fading faster
into a darkness behold
Mother’s heart beats less
her skin now scented
of decay and loneliness
she saw her future
dear Hester
dear Hester i have to go keeping you has cost me a fortune worked my body down to bones selling my soul for you for one faint kiss and giving the devil iou’s was no good
i finally admit that your fingers and aura gently crept into my blood brook driving me to unfathomable pleasure only known by kings but when i couldn’t feed you more and more and more your anger at me was like a riptide
dear Hester you thrusted and thrashed my body against the anguish i caused others because i was a slave to you when you read this letter i will be rolling in it the unholy pain of heart break for having to let you go
fever itch spasm vomit crying out for air
as i sink into the black hole of my own doing because i thought you loved me
Hester i have to Hester don’t you understand don’t cry Hester you have offered me comfort and euphoric happiness when the world turned its back on me you never lied to me and you even let the nay sayers preach at me and how you were a no good harlot beast
but in exchange for your mirage like generosity i turned over my freedom to you i have a sickness Hester i have to keep running there’s a demon stronger than us Hester i have to leave
the time has come for emancipation from us three
my dear Hester
das lebewohl
strikethrough
laced
sharp
clove smoke
in alley i
got what i came for
a ticket to peek inside God’s ear near
the heavens past the Milky Way from up there the world was beautiful
at the American Hotel full of sweaty nooks and crannies where the music was wild in its ferociousness and once infected
the brain floated amongst the red aura of the room while the riffs and the booms and the twangs and the truths were part of a generation dying to speak its aching lonely soul
from the cave with symbols and art from masters of no particular renown prophesies of the pioneers of future trillion sized debts and whose progeny would be prisoners within bars made of algorithms instead i was a rule breaker kid channeling Cassady before she knew how to write trickster of the night wild child who’d
never had to fight with an authoritative parent on account they were already at some of their own soirees as a little tax deduction i quickly learned that a woman’s place was not really where she had to stay and i followed suit because it was the only way my rebellious nature would be soothed and that’s how the old vagabonds took me to see the Clash when i was ten the coolest 6th grader ever summers in Bakersfield sandy hair wild like baby snakes shielded by the big
bad momma cobras picking grapes hearing the night thunder of God and machine never wondering what would happen to me at least not in the day time Al’s bar i miss your soul so many times i bled polka dotting your floors lost my mind but the angels of the green couches were there to call the taxi but no one knew the address rock and roll deep in thought colors floated steadily for me forming live connections to the guys that God called Us do pigeons count as doves i loved the one with stripped wings white neck and red beak hind and fore sight blended in my head pounding breaths waking up in the middle of the deck only to see the headlines im still here Hillel wild crazy as fuck child incomprehensible girl took the diagnostical sentence because you didn’t understand
Valentina
little Valentina jumped up and down by the crosswalk waiting for the light to turn lime jello green her little black patent leather shoes tip tapped on the dirty dusty sidewalk she let go of her mom’s hand to clean the dust off open little palms were no match for the dirt those were her prized church doctor and special school event shoes they couldn’t get dirty Valentina had an excellent day at the dentist and her mom and dad promised her she could go to Olvera Street and get her treat as the family made their way to the Plaza Valentina’s eyes search like a hawk she didn’t see Don Chema the paleta man with his cart filled with frozen delights it was a humble little ice box covered with ice pop stickers shaped like action heroes Sponge Bob and even the Disney Princesses once they got to the kiosk and the giant tree Valentina’s hopes dimmed she looked up at her dad with the biggest brownest sullen eyes and he offered a dreadful solution would you like a churro instead Valentina searched once more and as a small crowd of Japanese tourists dispersed she saw Don Chema she hopped and squealed with delight Valentina pulled on her parents to walk her to the paletero Don Chema in a nasally raspy voice asked her que le gustaria mi reina Valentina whispered up to her dad and she asked for the prized watermelon paleta juicy red with the little black seeds frozen inside
words less spoken 